This is long and somewhat drawn out. I apologize, but you’re all I have left to ask for help.


 I am diagnosed Manic Depressive, Agoraphobic, and OCD with panic and anxiety. I have had them since I was about 6 and managed all of them as best I could however I could. For the better part of the past 8 years I’ve done so without medication. I was only able to accomplish that through a very strong sense of self, a very structured and ordered personal environment, and every ounce of self discipline and control being exercised continually. Until recently when it all broke into so many more fractured, shattered, annihilated


About 6 months ago I discovered what I term the "eeewww factor". It was almost an overnight change and I have no idea why or how  I came to acquire it. What it means is that, for the first time in my life I was a typical "girl" (sorry to all the girls reading this I’ve always been such a tom-boy that the term just never worked for me), and the things that gross out "most people" also had the same effect on me.


Unfortunately it was a little worse than this, and I found that I couldn't stomach even the most minor of  "offensive" topics, visuals, or considerations. This isn't a big deal, I suppose, unless your college major is mortuary science, which:


1)    includes embalming, anatomy and pathology;

2)   you've already finished more than half of a 3 semester program;

3)   you've wanted to do this for 16 years and finally had the opportunity;

4)   you never imagined anything could happen to interfere with this particular goal so you horribly miscalculated by not having a Plan B for the first time in your life;

5)   you are at the mercy of your mother and step-father who have given you a place to live and not have to work while you’re in school;

6)   you haven't lived in your mother’s house since you were 16, 24 years ago ~ there are an number of painful, unhealthy, and threatening reasons for this, which I’m sure I’ll share with you all later;

7)   you finally pulled it together enough to have a Plan B, which worked out perfectly, up to and including moving 300 miles away from the chaos, hurt, confusion, disappointment and apathy of the people closest to you. A move to an area in which the local community college has a degree program in your alternate major ~none of the schools where you moved from offered a degree, only a certificate…you did not move in with your parents at 41 years old, again after 24 years, for a certificate only.


And here’s the coup de grace… The same day my parents told me I could move up here, live in their vacant never used vacation home, and go to the school with the degree program I chose as my alternate major… I was told that the only person I’ve been close to in years, who was also the last person I had an intimate relationship with, albeit tumultuous and often painful, had hung himself a few days before in rehab.


The scheduled plan was that I start moving the following day, so that’s what I did. To a place I’ve never lived before, where I don’t know a single person, with the intention to find a new job, start at a new school, and adjust to all of this alone. Alone would have been fine if I hadn’t lost Chris when I did, the way I did. In the 3 months since his death and my relocation, I have barely been able to move, think, feel anything but loss, and a hole I will never be able to fill again. Our relationship was unique due to the conditions we both have/had. His was never diagnosed because once he started on the drugs no one would consider anything else. Sadly, it’s more than apparent now that it wasn’t just the drugs. We shared a part of ourselves with each other that no one else could deal with, recognize, or even accept. It was the only peace I know I had, and I believe he had in our lives at all.


I can’t express my frustration, hurt, confusion, and further sense of loss when the only 4 people I had considered friends, 2 literally family and 2 more of acquaintances, explained they wouldn’t visit because it was too far to drive. A drive which up until only the past few weeks I was making on a regular basis to see them because it was  a death sentence for me to stay in an empty house, in the foothills without any people nearby, and my service weapon close at hand.


Please keep in mind, as a rule I ask no one for anything. So when I finally do it’s very important, never petty or trivial. It’s also extremely rare that I accept any help. This is due to the OCD more than anything else. I asked my “friends” and got “sorry, can’t help ya”. My family has no clue how bad it is because I refuse to involve my mother in anything if it can be avoided, she’s also a death sentence for me. I am supposed to have been in school, found a job, and be working my way blissfully to independence, but the reality is I can’t move. I can’t think. I can’t find anyone to talk to that doesn’t charge money that I can’t pay.


I adopted 2 kittens from the local shelter 3-4 weeks ago, when I was terrified of the responsibility for them. I had to get them because I couldn’t keep wandering around by myself, feeling the way I did/do in a 3 bedroom, 2 bath, 3,000 sq ft house on an acre of land, owned by 2 of the people who have caused more pain, damage, and loss than anyone else in my life. In a place that is too far for anyone to visit no matter that I was having suicidal considerations for the first time in 8 years.


It’s still just me and my kittens, literally life savers, but I am pretty much out of time for staying here and I have done nothing to find a job, get enrolled in school, take care of my financial aid paperwork for spring, or anything else that would certainly be in my best interest for that matter.


This is where I need some help. I’ve been in bad shape before but not like this, not without even one single resource of my own. Not without one friend to tell me I’ll get through this. Not without some sense of something that mattered to me. The last time it was this bad I flat-lined on the ER operating table. And event what led to that, in retrospect, wasn’t nearly as lonely as this. The only reasons I’m holding at all are the kittens. They give enough love and acceptance for 20 humans. Unfortunately that only makes it harder to think about leaving for work or school.


If you have any thoughts on how to break from the feeling of being paralyzed and unable to move or leave the house for any length of time, please share them with me. If you are in or have been in the same or a similar situation, please tell me, I’d like to hear about it. I will gladly take whatever anyone feels they have to offer. Right now it’s all I have to work with.


Thank you in advance. I can honestly say I can’t do it without you.




  1. AlexPKeaton 13 years ago

    Dear M,

    I am new here – I haven’t explored this site at all, I haven’t read anyone’s blog besides yours – I can only hope that others here have the same openness and thoughtfulness that yours had.  Let me first tell you a little about myself.  I’m 26, went to college on a full academic scholarship, but have washed out of my first two jobs on disability because I can’t handle the stress, or, more specifically, OCD has caused me to worry excessively about minor aspects of my personal or professional life to the point where I need more help than I’m getting.  I have shut myself away, first on my own, now with family.  I can understand and appreciate isolation.

    I truly believe my family and friends try to understand, but that, in the end, they don’t experience what I do – they don’t understand the fear, nor could I possibly tell them about the guilt and pain my mind seeks to inflict upon me on a daily basis.  I think my therapist is a good man, and understands a little, but I talk for 90% of the time and I can anticipate his 10%.  What I want I’ll never get – an outright cure.  And I would give up all of my natural gifts for it.  As Socrates related Homer: "Better to be the poor servant of a poor master, and to endure anything, rather than think as they do and live after their manner."  To be normal.  But we are not normal – we are different.  We have a contribution to make, we want to make a bigger contribution than we are making… we just don’t know how – or who will arrive with the answer.

    I have told my doctor, well, my P.A., and my therapist that I have had suicidal thoughts.  I have called a crisis line a good half-dozen times in as many weeks.  And, honestly, I am fed up with the lack of support they give me.  "Things will be okay," "You’ll get through this…"  I need a plan, I need someone to understand why everyone in my world believes I have thrown the promise of a bright future away.

    I don’t know if I’m helping.  But I don’t want to be like the crisis line – make sure you’re okay when I hang up and then forget – maybe that’s too harsh but I just want someone to talk to – to understand my pain rather than try to mitigate it or talk me out of it.  We wanted different things, the operator and I.  And in the end I gave them what they wanted to hear so cops wouldn’t knock on my door… but still, I ended the call as it began, empty, reaching out for someone to hear me and, for perhaps the first time, listen.

    What I do know is this – that an ending is final.  And that fact has been the only thing holding me from the precipice.  I hope my words help – you are not alone here, at the edge of things.  Please stay on this side, if only out of my selfish wish for company.  I got myself back up once, and someday should be able to do it again.  I’m waiting for my answer.

    My name starts with an M too, so I will take a page out of Ian Fleming’s James Bond novels and sign off as the other single letter monikered hero:

    Take care, M,


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  2. ancientgeekcrone 13 years ago

    I say that you need to keep on blogging.  You need to keep the connections you have with the tribe.  Unafflicted persons have no clue and are often fearful of these difficult afflictions. They usually are not insightful enough to understand your calls for help were because you are in crisis.  I like animals myself and have 1 dog and 1 cat.  As you say, they are literally lifesavers.  Whenever you get as distressed as you soud right now, you get on line and blog.  You will get responses from people who desire to show there support.  You will slowly realize that you are not allone with you demons and  people will come up with ideas or at least words of support,  Remember these episodes are full of negative energy which is paralyzing you.  So write, write, write the energy out of them.  Blog , blog, rant complain as often as you need to.  Do not worry.  People will understand and respond.

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